


Evicted!

by alikatastic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bad Parent Frank Gallagher, Frank Gallagher Being an Asshole, Frank Gallagher has Dementia, Frank takes out his frustrations on Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 13:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikatastic/pseuds/alikatastic
Summary: After Frank punched Ian in a booze-fueled confused state, they had fallen asleep before Mickey asked any of his burning questions, and Ian was glad for it. He dreaded to imagine what his nightmare had been if he had to talk more bout it if he had to tell Mickey about Frank shoving him from a moving car as he screamed evicted. Frank had never beat him like Terry beat his kids. It was always little stupid things, like shoving his face towards a hot eye on the stove or kicking him in the back of the knee while he was on the stairs.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	Evicted!

Trauma is ingrained in your soul, in your very being. Some days are better than others, and sometimes it seems to come from nowhere. Ian had woken up in a cold sweat. Mickey didn’t budge, and for that, he was glad. There were somethings his husband didn’t need to know, and one of those things was the nightmares he still experienced. He thought it was stupid. He knew the trigger, and that only made things worse.

That is how Ian found himself sitting at the end of the bed staring at the wall. His body was drenched in sweat, and his heart was pounding. He ran a shaking hand through his curly sweat-drenched hair. “Fuck.” He muttered. The dream was playing over and over again in his head. He softly touched the bruise on his jaw, knowing it was the cause of the dream. He also hated that his mind supplied some of his worst fears instead of sticking to the memories.

Mickey let out a small grunt and rolled over. Ian turned to watch him, but he didn’t wake up. The sun was coming up. Ian didn’t know how long he sat there, but he knew it was more than an hour. He was still shaking, and he hoped it all calmed down before Mickey woke up. He took a ragged breath, trying to calm his nerves. It had been a shitty night. Terry had died a few weeks before, and Frank was on a downward spiral. Ian knew it would happen, but Ian and Mickey had been left to take care of him. Lip was not taking it very well. Ian had hoped it would help keep him sober, but it seemed to have an opposite effect. Lip and Frank had sat on the couch drinking the day away, and Debbie was nowhere to be found.

It was all just a stupid mistake. Frank had been confused; he thought it was years prior, and Ian was just a kid. He had started spewing hate, and Mickey had looked shocked.

“And cock sucking redheads are always the worst.” Frank had slurred, making Lip laugh and Ian sigh. “Your brother,” Frank had jabbed Lip, “Is a fucking pussy just like his backstabbing cunt of a father.”

Ian rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Lip, get the fuck up and go sleep it off.” He grabbed Lip’s arm and heaved him up.

“So fucking bossy, just like his whore of a mother.” Frank laughed, and Ian shoved Lip towards the kitchen. “I should have kicked her down the stairs while you were in her gut, Ian _Clayton._ ”

He saw Mickey frowning out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been saying that for years.”

Ian leaned forward, trying to get Frank to lay down. “Evicted!” Frank yelled as he punched Ian in the face.

Mickey acted quickly, grabbing Frank by the throat and shoving him down, but Ian touched his arm to calm him down. Ian looked back to a panicked Frank. “Come on, Frank, learn some new moves.” Ian covered him with a blanket. “That didn’t work when I was four, and it won’t work now.”

Mickey tossed his arms up but didn’t leave Ian’s side. They had fallen asleep before Mickey asked any of his burning questions, and Ian was glad for it. He dreaded to imagine what his nightmare had been if he had to talk more bout it if he had to tell Mickey about Frank shoving him from a moving car as he screamed evicted. Frank had never beat him like Terry beat his kids. It was always little stupid things, like shoving his face towards a hot eye on the stove or kicking him in the back of the knee while he was on the stairs.

Tears burned his eyes as he watched the sun come up. He and the sunrise had always had a love-hate relationship. On the one hand, it was peaceful and beautiful and colorful, but on the other hand, Ian equated morning with sleeping in cars or under bridges. He was reminded of sleepless nights. He jumped when he felt Mickey lightly touch his shoulder.

“What time is it?” Ian looked at Mickey’s sleep softened face as he shrugged. “What are you doing up?”

Ian sighed, closing his eyes for a few moments. “Nothing.”

Ian crawled back into bed, laying his head on his pillow. Mickey stared at him with a slight frown. He laid back down, watching Ian. “What’s going on?”

Ian felt tears drip over his nose wetting the pillow. “It’s nothing, Mick.”

Mickey huffed. “Okay, husband, talk to me.”

Ian scooted closer to Mickey. “It’s stupid; it was just a dream.”

“A dream?” Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s shoulders, pulling him close. “What was it about?”

Usually, Ian would tease Mickey about his softness, but he felt his body start to shake again. “I’m just stupid; you don’t have to worry about it.” Mickey looked at him with raised eyebrows. “It was when I was seven, and Frank shoved me from the car yelling about being evicted. I broke my fucking leg that day, and I remember laying across the backseat with Lip while Fiona yelled at Frank, but that’s not what happened in my dream. I was older, and your dad was on top of me, beating the shit out of me. The first time he did it, not the second. I couldn’t move though, my leg was still broken, and the road rash was leaking blood all over the kitchen. But this time Monica wasn’t there to pull him off of me, but Frank was still there saying, evicted. Like I said, I was fucking stupid.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Mickey cleared his throat. “Frank threw you from a moving car?”

“We weren’t going that fast. It’s not a big deal.”

Mickey nodded, taking in his words. “Terry has beat you more than once?”

“Forgot you were in juvie for that.” Ian sighed. “It was when Mandy got pregnant; he thought it was mine.”

“Wait, mandy was pregnant?”

“Yeah, Lip and I helped her raise money for the abortion. That was also the first time your dad shoved a gun in my face. It was a hectic day.”

Mickey ran his hand over his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you hear the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

“What are you talking about?” Ian asked with a frown.

Mickey snorted. “Frank tossed me out of a moving car and broke my leg, but we weren’t going that fast. Terry Milkovich shoved a gun in my face, man it was a hectic day. If that is a hectic day, what are the bad ones like?”

“Well, I mean a few stick out, but it doesn’t matter, really.”

Mickey ran his finger along Ian’s bruised face. “You know we talk about Terry a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to say, Mick, he was a monster.”

Mickey cupped his cheek. “Yeah, he was.” Mickey let Ian absorb the words. “You rarely talk about Frank, but when you do, it gets worse and worse.”

“It’s not like he beat me or anything. I think the worst thing he’s ever done is...” Ian paused, embarrassed.

“Is?”

Ian sighed, scrubbing the tear tracks from his face. “I was twelve and making some easy mac or whatever. I spilled the boiling water on the floor, scalding my feet. Frank had come in, and his socks get wet. He grabbed me by the hair and held my face over the eye on the stove.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to stay calm. “It’s not like my face touched, but I had small blisters for two weeks, and I didn’t spill hot water on the floor anymore.”

“You get that’s fucked up, right?”

Ian rolled his eyes and flopped on his back. He stared at the ceiling, feeling frustrated. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Mickey was still on his side, looking, watching his uncomfortable husband. “I don’t want anything. It’s just that we have spent years talking about how Terry fucked me up and how he hurt you, but I forgot to talk about Frank. Even in prison, we talked about me and all the shit between us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Mickey scoffed, flopping onto his back. “Whatever.” Mickey took a deep breath, trying to quell his anger. “You know I don’t like talking about this shit, man, but this is all fucked up, and I’m fucking pissed I didn’t know. You get that, right? Now I’m sitting here questioning everything.”

Ian’s eyes jerked to Mickey. “You’re questioning what? Us? Me?”

“No,” He huffed. “But now I’m fucking wondering what else I missed. How many times did I not notice Frank had busted you up? How many times did I make that shit worse?”

“It’s not like he was abusive.” Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. “He was barely even a fucking dad. Terry was abusive; I can handle Frank.”

“You know Terry has punched you in the face more than times than me. You were there for both times, but apparently, he’s beat the shit out of you three times. I mean, he was a shitty fucking dad with all the racist, homophobic shit, but his go-to wasn’t hitting us.”

“He made you run drugs.”

Mickey ran his hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, like I said, he was fucking shitty, but so was Frank.”

“Yeah.” Ian rolled onto his side, laying his head on Mickey’s chest.

Mickey ran his hand up and down Ian’s back. “Your brother is a fucking dick.”

Ian huffed out a laugh. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“He just let Frank say that shit?” Mickey buried his hand in Ian’s soft hair.

“I can take it.” Ian snuggled deeper into his chest. “I’m okay.” 

Mickey scoffed. “Okay.” After a few moments of silence, Mickey couldn’t help but ask more questions. “He let Frank hit you too?”

“Lip did his best. When we were kids, there was nothing he could do. That’s probably why he’s so quick to knock him out.”

They could hear people moving around downstairs, signaling that it was time to get up. Mickey knew Ian was probably exhausted. He didn’t know how long Ian was up before Mickey woke, but he knew it had been hours. Ian pressed a kiss to his lips before getting up. It was going to be a long day.


End file.
